


Rainfall

by embolalia



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, maybe some eden imagery, sex in the rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 10:45:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4057078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embolalia/pseuds/embolalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s taken more than three thousand days for their crops to return enough moisture to the air for rain to fall back down. Furiosa and Max lose themselves in the joy of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rainfall

At the first burst of thunder, everyone in the Citadel scrambles to their tasks: opening the rain barrels, covering the youngest sprouts with tarps, making sure the children are indoors. It’s only the third time it’s rained, but they know their jobs well. Furiosa takes the stairs upwards two at a time.

It’s taken more than three thousand days for their crops to return enough moisture to the air for rain to fall back down. The experience is incredible. This time Max is already there, standing in the center of the garden facing out toward the storm clouds, his arms outstretched to catch the first drops before they can even touch the ground. It’s the only thing he’s ever claimed for himself, and she’ll let him have it for the awe that holds him taut. For a moment he’s lit up by lightning, and her road warrior lets out a whoop.

Furiosa calls out a greeting as she approaches him; after all this time, she knows not to lurk in his blind spots. Even as he turns, he’s reaching for her, cradling her face in his hands and kissing her so that she catches her first sip of fresh water from his lips. She relaxes into him with the ease of long familiarity, her good hand catching the back of his head as Max unbuckles the belts of her prosthetic until it falls to the ground. Furiosa lets it go. If it rusts, she’ll oil it later.

The first time it rained Max was off in the desert on a scouting run. When he got back his eyes were lighter than they’d ever been before and his clothes were soaked through. The last time they stood here together, with the Sisters and their children and the rest of the people who’ve grown close to them over the years. They stole a few kisses, but it was a moment to be shared. This time Furiosa has unabashedly assigned everyone to be somewhere else.

The rain is plodding down harder now, the sky dark and flashing in the distance. Max starts to pull her toward the lee of the bluff, but Furiosa refuses to be moved, and after a moment he gives in with a smirk and tumbles her down into the wet and green instead. Furiosa laughs. The grass tickles at her neck and the rain is running down her scalp and usually she likes to be on top but right now she wants to feel all this life beneath her. Max licks raindrops from her throat, her collarbone, pulls her shirt away to suck at her breast as if the water on her skin is nourishment her body offers him. The pleasure is sharp and sweet, and he knows her well, his mouth driving her to distraction until she rolls them over, shoving at their sodden, tangled clothes in her impatience.

Rain is coming down in sheets, muting all other sound, blurring even her vision of his face as Furiosa straddles Max’s hips and aligns their bodies. The fury of the storm brands her back, washing away her history and marking her with a new one. She leans forward to shelter Max as they come together and finds him grinning, his joy stretched so wide he can barely stop to kiss her. She laughs, rises up again, lets the pounding of water against her bare skin guide her with its fierce rhythm until they’re both lost to pleasure.

They lie together even afterward, wrapped in each other, naked in the garden of their creation. The rain still falls in cool staccato drops. Each time the rains bring new discoveries: seeds dormant for decades, buried in the sand, or the treasures of old sandstorms finally wiped clean and delivered up. When Furiosa tilts her head and finds Max smiling, it feels like just such a discovery. He reaches for her again, cupping her cheek for a long, slow kiss. There are leaves in their hair, the smell of life all around them.

“Welcome home,” Max murmurs against her lips.

She presses her face into his shoulder, and if she weeps the rain claims her tears of release, of relief, to water their new world.

**Author's Note:**

> There is some actual science to this if you're curious, though I made up how long it would take for rain to fall again! http://www.nature.com/news/2006/060925/full/news060925-1.html


End file.
